


Transferrable Skills

by El Staplador (elstaplador)



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, brightly coloured nutritional products, call centre, explosive personalities, five things, jury-rigging the TARDIS, original alien characters mentioned in passing, supertemp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:30:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elstaplador/pseuds/El%20Staplador
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Temping: an underrated profession. Five things that Donna has learned in her time as an agency worker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transferrable Skills

_1\. Excellent Telephone Manner_

The phone shrilled as the TARDIS door swung shut behind them. Breathless, Donna answered it; the Doctor was slumped on the floor, bleeding gently and in no way to be answering anything.

Before she could speak, the other party bellowed, 'WE WILL DESTROY YOU!'

'Charming,' Donna muttered, 'and how did you even get this number?' Then, in her professional voice, 'Good afternoon; this is the TARDIS, Donna speaking, how can I help you?'

She was stalling, but so what? The things were outside the door, and she couldn't fly the TARDIS on her own.

'WE WILL DESTROY YOU!'

Excitable little buggers, the Zorblen. Explosive, even, the Doctor had said. And with a strange aversion to killing anything they hadn't taunted face to face. One of evolution's odd quirks.

Explosive. Now, that was a thought.

'I'm afraid all our destruction specialists are busy at the moment, but please hold, and someone will be with you as soon as possible.' Donna started to sing. 'My my, at Waterloo, Napoleon did surrenderrrr, and I, have met my destineee in quite a sim'lar way.'

She had got most of the way through all the Abba hits she could remember before the customer lost patience.

'WE WILL DESTROY YOU AND THE DOCTOR!'

She finished the verse, just for the hell of it. 'Sorry, you are being held in a queue. All our specialists are busy at the moment. Please press one to speak to a downtrodden minion.'

A bleep. Then another, and then another, lengthy one, as if the key was being held down in frustration.

'Hello,' Donna said, 'you're through to Donna. I'm a downtrodden minion. How can I help you today?'

'WE WILL DESTROY THE DOCTOR.'

'The Doctor's a busy man, you know,' Donna said. 'Do you have an appointment?'

'THE ZORBLEN DO NOT MAKE APPOINTMENTS.'

  
'I can offer you next July, or Tuesday week if it's really an emergency.' She could just about make out a faint hissing noise coming over the line. That was a good sign. At least, she hoped it was a good sign. She _really_ hoped that the TARDIS was as explosion-proof as the Doctor always made out.   


'WE WILL DESTROY THE DOCTOR NOW. AND YOU.'

'I'm afraid that's not possible. You see, you would need an up-to-date eye test. That would take three to five days, and then there would be a delay in getting the results to the consultant... Of course, you can request to see your medical records under the Data Protection Act, but that could well take longer.' She was talking utter nonsense now, but it was working. The hissing was getting louder.

'DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG A DAY LASTS ON PLANET ZORB?'

'I'm very sorry – we can't make exceptions.'

At her feet, the Doctor groaned and sat up.

'THREE HUNDRED OF YOUR EARTH YEARS, THAT'S HOW LONG. WE DEMAND TO SPEAK TO THE DOCTOR.'

'The Doctor is very busy and cannot possibly be disturbed.'

Taking the hint, the Doctor crawled over to the smoking console. A brief glance, and he looked back at Donna and drew a finger slowly across his throat.

Great. Just great. It was just as well she was getting on with things then, wasn't it?

'WE DEMAND TO SPEAK TO THE DOCTOR.' The hissing had become an insistent whine. They were going to blow, and it was going to make a horrible mess of the outside of the TARDIS.

Donna summoned up her most conciliatory tone. 'I'll just see if he's free for you. I'm going to have to put you on hold; is that all right?' And, just as the thing shrieked 'NOOOOO!' she began singing, 'Mooooooooooon River, wiiiiider than a miiiile, I'm crossing you in style, some daaaaaaaayy...' She tucked the phone between her chin and shoulder, stuffed her fingers in her ears, and continued, 'you dreeam maker, you heart breaker, wherever you're going, I'm going your waaaaayyy...'

It was a very big bang.

 

2\. _Experience of a variety of office environments_

'So we're stuck?'

'Until I can find a square metre of lead foil and some peppermint leaves, yes.' The Doctor patted the console in what was evidently meant to be a consoling manner.

'And you're telling me you don't have any on the TARDIS?'

'I used to, but the herb garden got vaporised the last time the fluid link blew up. I'm sure there'll be something outside.'

'Maybe, but they'll arrest us the moment we step out there.'

'Don't worry about that,' the Doctor said. 'I have a plan.'

Donna narrowed her eyes. 'It had better be a good one.'

 

***

It wasn't. They were arrested.

 

***  


It was a typical cell in a typical gaol on the planet Z425. Six-sided, barred on three sides and smooth rock on the other three. Squirrels chattered in the vents, and the door was fastened with what the Doctor said was rather an intriguing little laser lock.

'You ever been in gaol before?' Donna asked, when she had got tired of fuming.

The Doctor was sitting on the (mercifully clean) floor, and looking irritatingly philosophical. 'Mmm? Oh yes, but very rarely for long. You?'

'This is my first time, and all thanks to you, spaceboy.'

'I've seen worse,' the Doctor said, stretching out his legs and putting his hands behind his head. 'Much worse. Tianmys 7, for example. You really don't want to end up behind bars there.'

'Why? What's it like?'

'You really don't want to know.'

'Come to think of it,' Donna reflected, 'I've worked in worse offices than this. At least this is warm. And the company's better than it was at Solutions Chiswick.'

'Thanks.'

'Trust me,' Donna said, 'it's not much of a compliment. Thinking about it, I shouldn't be surprised if the manager actually was an alien.'

'Anyway,' the Doctor said, 'we only have to stay here as long we want. I can sonic us out of here in no time.'

'Well, why don't you, then?'

'I'm waiting for the tea to come round. Last time I was on Z425, I met a chap who told me all about the botany of the planet. Apparently the stuff they make tea out of here is pretty much identical to what you humans call peppermint. There's half a chance the TARDIS won't notice the difference.'

 

 _3\. Familiarity with database software_

Getting out of the cell without spilling too much of the precious peppermint(ish) tea(ish) was only the first challenge. Next came evading the guards, finding the way back to the TARDIS (the Doctor swore blind that it all made perfect sense so long as one always walked either clockwise or anti-clockwise, but he couldn't remember which it was), and remembering to prop the door open so they could get out again.

They forgot. The door slid shut behind them, and proved not to be susceptible to sonic screwdrivering.

Donna went to put the tea safely away in the TARDIS' larder, and found a limp green figure lying on the floor of the console room.

'Doctor,' she called. 'This isn't normal, is it?'

He came to look.

'No, not really. He should definitely be moving. OK,' the Doctor said, 'you look for a way out. I'll hack into this thing and find out who our unconscious guest actually is.'

'Wrong way round, Doctor.'

'What?'

'You find the way out. The TARDIS' translator thingy's working, isn't it?'

'Yes, it's fine.'

'In which case I'll get sense out of that thing a lot quicker than you will. When you've spent six months identifying and merging duplicate medical records in the biggest hospital in London, and then gone straight into cross-referencing fifteen thousand letters from loonies to the government and saving them all in a purpose-built and absolutely useless database, come back and tell me.'

'Fair point,' the Doctor said.

He hadn't even finished scanning the first wall by the time Donna called, jubilantly, 'He's Hara X. Fosse the third, and I know what's wrong with him, too!'

 

 _Interlude_

Hara's mother had been so pleased to have her offspring returned in a reasonably healthy state (they had got to him before his aluminium allergy did serious damage) that she not only talked the authorities into releasing the Doctor and Donna without charge (this was not difficult, since she was an authority herself), but provided a huge roll of lead foil, and a voucher for a meal for two at an extremely exclusive restaurant.

'Oh, but we're not...' the Doctor tried to tell Councillor Fosse, just as Donna said, 'Thank you, Councillor, that's very kind of you.'

'Rule of life,' she told him, once they were safely at the restaurant. 'Never turn down a free ticket. You have to get your perks where you can, at least when you're not sure if you'll be in work next week.'

'Hmph.' He prodded at the starter. 'Don't you find it a very unstable way of life?'

'Oh God, Doctor, don't you start that. It's bad enough coming from my mum.' She sipped the soup; it was bright blue, but very tasty. 'Actually, I enjoy it, when people aren't griping at me about it. You never know where you'll be, what you'll be doing, or who you'll be talking to. You learn something different in every post.' She grinned suddenly. 'Come to think of it, you're a fine one to talk.'

The Doctor ignored the jibe. 'Wall to wall fun and games, is it, then?'

'Well, the pay's crap and the management usually treats you like it found you on the bottom of its shoe, but you always know you're on a week's notice and you can walk out if it gets as bad as all that. And that beats a lot of the crummy jobs my friends do. I don't see the point,' Donna said thoughtfully, 'of taking on a job you hate just because it's permanent.'

'Better pay?'

'Well, yes, but the pay would have to be really, really, good to make up for that.'

'You must want to find somewhere eventually, though, somewhere you can stay.' The Doctor was looking melancholy. 'They all do.'

The waiterbot cleared the plates. 'Thanks,' Donna said. She turned back to the Doctor. 'Well, of course, you always go into a new post wondering if this is the one, the one that might go permanent. At the end of the first day you really hope it won't. By the end of the first week you're finding your feet, and it's getting to be more exciting than it is boring. By the end of the first month you're just bored. One day,' she said, 'one day I might find the one that never gets boring.'

 

4\. _Attention to detail_

The light on the second moon of Theecho does funny things to colour, but still:

'Doctor?'

'Mm?'

'You did say to look out for the little red flowers, didn't you?'

'Because they're poisonous, yes. Why?'

'I was just thinking... you might want to watch where you're sitting.'

'Ah.'

 

5.  _Adaptability_

 _  
_

She woke with what was definitely the worst headache she'd ever had in her life, and only vague memories of what had caused it. They must have been out. (Who?) The girls from the library, that was it. They'd been out to commiserate, because she really should have got that one, damn it. They'd drunk a lot; they must have done, for her head to feel like this. But it really wasn't fair; it felt a lot longer ago than last night...

Downstairs, the phone was ringing. Donna pulled the pillow over her head. Mum would get it.

'Donna! Donna! It's for yooooou!'

She groaned and, holding her head, came downstairs very slowly.

'It's your agency. And here's a cup of tea.'

'Thanks Mum. Hello?'

'Hello! Hello, Donna, it's Rachel. I'm just giving you a ring about a post; the client phoned this morning and it sounds just your sort of thing.'

Filing, Donna thought, it'll be filing. It's always filing. 'Tell me more,' she said.

'I can't say much – we'll actually need you to sign the Official Secrets Act – but you'll be supporting a team of people dealing with some really interesting stuff. They just need someone to cover the phones this week, but there's somebody leaving next week, so you should find there's more to keep you occupied after that.'

What the hell, Donna thought. 'Sure – sounds good.'

'The only thing,' Rachel twittered, 'is that it's starting tomorrow. Your mum said you'd been ill – are you sure you'll be OK?'

Bloody cheek of Mum, that was. It was only a hangover. Worst hangover in the universe, to be fair, but only a hangover. 'No, don't worry, I'll be fine.'

She had her doubts about Rachel's definition of 'interesting', but you never knew. This one really could be.


End file.
